Page 7 of Heatbound Hearts

My legs wobble, threatening to give out. "Where am I?" I demand, my voice cracking. But I can barely hear myself over the festivities. "What is this place?"

What have I done?

I stumble backward, my heart racing as the crowd's attention turns to me. The music slows to a discordant halt, replaced by a rising tide of whispers. Eyes—so many eyes—lock onto me, filled with curiosity, confusion, and in some cases, suspicion.

"What is she?"

"Where did she come from?"

"Look at her clothes..."

The voices swirl around me, a dizzying cacophony of unfamiliar accents and languages. I catch snippets of conversation, but my mind struggles to process it all.

My gaze darts from face to face, taking in features that are almost human, yet undeniably not. They are all tall, dark-skinned figures, their bodies lithe and graceful. But it's theirwings that truly captivate me—massive, bat-like appendages that flex and shift with every movement.

I blink hard, convinced I must be hallucinating. But when I open my eyes, they're still there. Winged people. Actual fucking winged people.

"This can't be real," I mutter, my voice barely audible over the growing commotion.

The crowd parts, and I spot a group of these winged beings moving purposefully in my direction. Their expressions are hard, determined. My muscles tense instinctively, years of survival on Earth kicking into overdrive.

I drop into a defensive stance, fists clenched at my sides. My eyes dart around, searching for anything I can use as a weapon. A discarded bottle, a loose stone—anything.

"Stay back," I growl, baring my teeth. It's a futile gesture, I know. These creatures could probably tear me apart without breaking a sweat. But I'll be damned if I go down without a fight.

The winged figures approach cautiously, their wings half-spread in what could be a threatening display. Or maybe it's meant to be calming? I can't tell, and I'm not about to take any chances.

My breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the chill in the air. Every instinct screams at me to run, but where? I'm surrounded, lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces and impossible beings.

As the winged figures draw closer, I can make out more details. Their eyes are unlike anything I've ever seen—large, reflective, in colors that shouldn't exist in nature. One of them, a male I think, reaches out a hand. His fingers end in what look like claws.

I flinch back, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. "Don't," I warn, my voice shaking despite my best effortsto sound tough. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will if I have to."

"Wait!"

The voice is loud enough to draw the creature's gaze away from me. They turn as I do, and my eyes lock onto a new figure approaching through the crowd. Another winged being, but this one's different. Taller, more imposing. His midnight blue skin shimmers in the strange twilight, and his silver eyes seem to pierce right through me.

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I forget the danger surrounding me. Instead, everything in me screams to run to him, the air feeling like it's pushing me to him.

Two others flank him. The first is what can only be a demon. My mind reels at the sight. A demon? A real fucking demon? I traded orcs for a fucking demon?

My lungs start to function again when I see the other person with him, though. She is human and she looks unharmed, to my relief. Maybe I can trust these people.

My gaze automatically drifts back to the blue-skinned man. That something about him is still calling to me, tugging at something deep inside. It's an ache, a need, I've never felt.

Without warning, he surges forward. My muscles tense, ready for an attack, but he doesn't come at me. Instead, he plants himself between me and the other creatures, his massive wings spread wide. The action is so unexpected, so bizarrely protective, that I can only stare in stunned silence.

"Back off," he growls, his voice low and threatening. The other winged beings hesitate, clearly caught off guard by his intervention. And then their eyes drift to the other two creatures and widen.

What a weird fucking night.

I blink, trying to make sense of what's happening. Why is he protecting me? He doesn't know me. Hell, I don't even knowwhat he is. But I can't deny the wave of relief that washes over me at his presence.

The human woman steps forward, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice gentle.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Am I okay? I don't even know where I am or what's happening.

The demon moves closer, his silver eyes studying me intently. Every instinct screams at me to run from him, but I'm rooted to the spot. His presence radiates power, and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

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